


Bad

by unfortunate17



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: :D, M/M, Zayn is pretending to be a badboy for Liam, if you don't think that's cute you be crazy love, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunate17/pseuds/unfortunate17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Liam likes bad boys and Zayn is the (seemingly) perfect bad boy.</p><p>Alternatively, in which Zayn pretends to be a bad boy because he thinks that's what Liam likes - except Liam really just has stupid domestic fantasies of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad

**Author's Note:**

> For lostboyzayn on tumblr :D Put on AO3 at request!

"Why don’t you bring him round the house for the holidays, Liam? Me and the girls would love to meet him."

Liam chokes on the water he’s gulping while his mum tells him off on the phone. Because Zayn -  _Zayn_ \- in his family house with his tattoos and piercings and ripped jeans and leather - well, that was like going and banging on your ex-boyfriend trouble’s front door.

"Don’t think that’s the best idea," he mutters, setting the glass down in the sink along with the other dishes, but Karen huffs loudly.

"Well then ask him will you," she makes a frustrated sound, "I get that you’re off in Uni, Liam -  _I get that_. But so long as I’m paying for a portion that tuition of yours, you’re coming round the house and keeping us involved, ok?”

Liam curls his hands into the pockets of his sweats in defeat, “Yeah. Yeah ok. I’ll ask him.”

He can  _feel_ his mum’s smug smile, “I’ll be looking forward to it, dear. Now I - ” she makes an aborted noise, “Liam, the oven’s on fire.”

Liam rolls his eyes at her dismal attempts to make something remotely edible for once, “Get dad.”

"Yes, well," she says, flustered, "I’ll do just that - right now. Like  _right now._ And you ask him, yeah. Tell that boy to come round to meet us.”

"Yes, mum," Liam says and there’s a childish innocence to this conversation. He feels twelve and reprimanded again.

"Don’t forget!"

Liam laughs, “I won’t.” He hears the front door swing shut and he sighs, “I think he’s home. I’ll ask him in just a bit. Bye mum.”

"Love you, sweetheart."

Liam’s face flushes as he catches sight of Zayn leaning against their dining table, shoes careless on the pristine carpet (courtesy of Liam of course), “Yeah. Love you too mum.”

Zayn’s smirk widens as Liam shuts the phone off and sets it lightly on the kitchen counter. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

Zayn shrugs and tosses his books carelessly on the kitchen table, flicking his lighter from his pocket and lighting up in the house (which Liam will admit is kind of hot when it’s not  _in his apartment_ ). “Was bored.” He nods at the phone, “What’d she want?”

Liam sucks his bottom lip into his mouth because even though him and Zayn have been fooling around for the better part of the year, he’s not really sure if they’re _dating._ At first, it’d been exactly what he wanted, especially after the Danielle routine that’d bored him to tears. But as usual, time’s changed everything.

"Nothing," he bristles, "She didn’t want anything. Go to class."

Zayn rolls his eyes and turns to drop heavily onto the sofa, “Quit nagging me, Liam. What’d she want?”

Liam frowns and turns back to the dishes in the sink, busying his hands, “She wanted - wanted me to bring you to meet her.”

The silence is deafening.

Liam flinches when he hears the springs of the sofa squeak and he’s half expecting to hear the door slam behind Zayn as he storms out.

Instead, there’s a hand on his back and when he turns to look, Zayn has an odd expression on his face,”Do you want me to come?”

Liam shrugs, “I mean, it’s not a big deal or anything. But - if you want. Like, I mean you’d be welcome.”

Zayn nods slightly, “Sure. Sure why not.”

"What?" Liam’s heart thuds and he shakes his head, "You’ll come? Really?"

Zayn winks at him over his shoulder as he makes his way to flip the TV on, “Free food.”

And there’s something unpleasant settling in Liam’s stomach because  _of course_ Zayn wasn’t serious. Zayn was rarely serious about anything and Liam loved it - loved that he didn’t have to call Zayn if he was out partying too late, that Zayn didn’t care if he came home drunk four nights a week, that he didn’t have to buy Zayn little trinkets of affection - but only at first. Now he just sort of wants to crawl into Zayn’s bed after a bad day for something other than sex.

Liam has a type - he’s got a thing for the quintessential bad-boy.

Figures it would come back to bite him in the ass.

_______________________________

Zayn’s birthday and end of midterms happen in the same week and Liam readies himself for the huge party that’s sure to follow where Zayn will inevitably end up copping a feel of someone in the dark who is most definitely not Liam.

Not that Liam has a right to say anything really because again,  _they’re not really dating._

Naturally, by the time the clock hits ten pm on Saturday, Zayn is already so drunk he can’t stand straight, which is how Liam finds himself pressed into the couch by his body as Zayn lays sloppy kisses to his cheeks.

"Leeyum," Zayn slurs, quietly, "you’re so  _hot.”_

Liam swallows back the lump in his throat. He’s been painfully sober all night - including when he’d put his hand on Zayn’s cock twenty minutes ago, which does nothing to help, “Yeah? Well you’re not so bad yourself.”

Zayn looks mournfully down at himself and leans in closer. Liam’s heart ruts pathetically against his ribcage, “But, Leeyum, you’re like the fittest and hottest, yeah.” He slumps forward and noses at Liam’s neck, “Can have anyone if ya want.”

Liam brings his arms up awkwardly to ensure Zayn doesn’t fall to the floor, “Maybe we should get you home.”

Zayn pouts, “It’s still early.”

"You’re drunk off your arse," Liam retorts. Really, a drunk Zayn and a room full of scantily clad people is never a good combination for his feelings.

"I’m not drunk!"

Liam snorts and stands up from under Zayn, jostling him in the process. Zayn yelps and clings to him, but Liam can already tell that this night’s going to be a washout for him later.

"Come on," he takes Zayn’s hands, cheeks coloring at the innocent action, "I’ll drive you back."

Zayn crowds behind him until they’re out of the sweaty student apartment, and the sudden cool night air that blasts as soon as they’re out the door has Liam shivering in his t-shirt. The sound of the city is so loud for a minute that it takes him a couple seconds to realize that Zayn’s talking to him, gripping his hand tighter.

" - cold?"

Liam turns and blinks at him, “What?”

Zayn steps forward into his space and then his mouth is on Liam’s neck, arms curled around him making Liam freeze involuntarily.

They stand there like that, all wrapped up in each other for nearly five minutes.

Liam shifts slightly, amused and hurt, “Erm. This is nice and all but - Zayn. What’re you doing?”

Zayn hums softly into his skin, ” ‘m keeping you warm.”

Liam feels hysterical laugher bubble in him because what the hell has he done to deserve this? It’s one thing to crave Zayn when he’s a distant asshole (see: every time he’s sober), but a completely different thing to want him when he’s looking up at Liam with sleepy eyes and soft smiles.

"Yeah, well. Let’s just get to my car, yeah. There’s a heater in there." Zayn snuffles into his neck and Liam’s hands shake, "Come on Zayn, I’m not carrying you."

"Ok," Zayn mutters irritable and pouting, pulling his face out from the crook of Liam’s neck, "But only cause it’s  _you._ ”

Zayn passes out on the drive home and Liam  _does_  end up carrying him to his flat. He also ends up shucking his shoes and pants off and tucking him into bed.

Zayn doesn’t ask him to stay and Liam walks out, shutting the door behind him and simultaneously cursing his past, “playboy” self to hell.

What the hell had he been thinking - getting involved with  _Zayn Malik._

_________________________________

Zayn doesn’t thank him the next day - in fact, Zayn doesn’t call at all and Liam tries and fails to focus on his economics project.

He gives up around eight pm, already exhausted from doing the laundry, because yes, that takes a lot out of him, alright. He’s making dinner when Zayn comes up behind him, scaring him half to death. Not that Liam lets it show or anything.

"Hey."

Liam spares him a fleeting glace as his heart threatens to take flight, “Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence.

"Are you mad at me?"

Liam drops the spatula back into the pot and turns to look at him, eyebrows raised, “No.”

Zayn nods, blinking at the ground and Liam’s chest constricts at he way Zayn seems to have forgotten his leather jacket. He’s soft around the edges like this in a way that anybody, least of all Liam, rarely gets to see.

"That’s good." Zayn says, running a hand through his hair while his other’s already reaching into the pocket of his skin-tight jeans. Liam will never understand how he puts anything in there - least of all a pack of fags, a lighter, condoms,  _and_ his wallet.

Liam shifts his weight, “Did you want something?”

Zayn lights up, flicking the ash off onto the carpet. “Oh, no. Just. Hungry.”

"Hungry," Liam says flatly, eyes narrowing.

Zayn makes an aborted noise, “Liam -“

But then Liam’s shaking his head because really, there was no reason for Zayn to come and see him. He needs to learn to get his head on straight.

He huffs, “Sorry. I’m just tired, yeah. Grab a plate.” He makes a face, “And snuff that out, yeah.”

Zayn shrugs, all cool and collected again, flash of vulnerability clouded by smoke and exposed tattoos (just like how Liam used to think he liked his boys).

They wind up watching a shitty rom com because Zayn laughs at him when Liam holds up the Avengers DVD and it makes Liam feels sort of small for a minute until he’s flushing and putting it away. He swears he sees Zayn’s face tighten for a second but it’s always difficult to say with Zayn.

Really, it’s not his fault when he dozes off. It’s been a long day and the rom com is boring as all fuck but Zayn had his eyes fixated on the program and Liam had, naturally - because he’s a damn fool - been reluctant to change it.

He wakes up to the sound of running tap water and a glance at the clock reveals he’s only been asleep for about twenty minutes. It takes him a second to realize that his sink faucet is running. Then, it takes him another second to realize that someone’s doing the dishes - and that someone, unless the thieves were exceptionally kind, was probably Zayn.

He closes his eyes at the impending headache. Zayn and domesticity are a pathetic weakness in Liam’s mind and he’s not about to give in now - not after a year. The water stops running and his floor creaks as Zayn walks past him in the living room. Liam frowns because there’s nothing there except his bedroom.

He’s about to get up and kick Zayn out when something warm and heavy drops down on top of him and Liam has to force himself to stay quiet because Zayn fucking Malik was making him comfortable on his couch.

There’s a hand at his forehead smoothing his hair back and another pulling the downy blanket up tighter around his shoulders. Both of them linger longer than necessary.

Liam doesn’t fall asleep that night - not even hours after Zayn leaves.

_____________________________________

The days blur together and the end of the school year creeps up a lot faster then Liam expects him to. And all of a sudden there’s frantic no excuse of, “I have to get to class,” when Zayn decides to push him into walls with a hand down his pants.

For the first few days, Zayn is all over him and Liam knows he takes some sort of perverse pride in keeping Liam in bed until nearly noon every day.

Until he doesn’t.

It’s been eleven days and Liam hasn’t seen him once. The smell of smoke has nearly disappeared from his living room and as much as it used to bother him before, Liam doesn’t know what to make of the hollow feeling in his chest.

And he feels pathetic.

Because he’s stuck wanting something that he’s made up in his head. Zayn’s probably busy - probably busy with  _someone else_  and they were just two kids that fooled around. It was part of the appeal at first when the Danielle shaped hole in his shadow had been just a little too wide and gaping for his liking.

Except, Zayn does things like tuck him in and hug him and sometimes he kisses slow and soft and burning. And Liam doesn’t know what to make of it - what to make of Zayn when he’s not trying to get into Liam’s pants.

Zayn shows up after six more days and Liam doesn’t want to let him in except Zayn has keys and Liam can’t (see: won’t) exactly stop him.

He’s walking in to collapse on the sofa when Liam stops him.

"Where were you?"

Zayn freezes in his tracks, hands in his pocket making him look more guilty than he might have been, “What’s it to you?”

"I - " Liam wrings his hands, " _Where were you?”_

Zayn rolls his eyes, “Home. Went to visit my sisters.”

Liam deflates against the front door, studying his feet, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

"Why does it matter?"

Liam makes a frustrated noise, “It doesn’t. I just. I didn’t know where you were or who you were -  _fuck._ I sound like my ex.”

There’s a tense silence in the room and Zayn finally turns to face him. His hair is mussed and unstyled and he looks so young that Liam wants to kiss him.

"Liam?"

Embarrassingly, his voice clogs up. “I just -” he begins thickly, “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Zayn stands up sharply at that and there’s something cold in his eyes. He shuffles forward until there’s barely any space between the two of them, “Why?”

"I can’t - I don’t want to do this." That probably takes the cake as the most outrageous lie Liam’s ever managed to get out with a straight face.

But Zayn looks so  _sad_  now, “Did I do something wrong?”

"Zayn - it’s not a big deal, yeah," Liam tells him pointedly, " ‘s not like we were dating. We were just - it’s. Let’s just forget about it."

"Fucking." There’s something dangerous in Zayn’s tone, "We were  _just fucking,_ yeah?”

"Zayn -"

"No," Zayn says, loudly, effectively cutting off any continuation Liam could have made. Zayn sighs then, leaning into his shoulder, "No."

There’s a long pause.

"What did I do?" Zayn asks finally, "Fuck - I. You wanted some kid to screw around with for a while that had tattoos and," he gestures to himself wildly, "the _hair_ and you know. That whole bad-boy thing. Didn’t I? I mean. Are you bored?”

Liam’s voice is bitter, “Hardly.” And then he realizes what he’s just admitted because, yeah, his mouth makes some pretty stupid decisions when it’s high off emotions.

Zayn goes wide-eyed for a second and then he’s reaching up to cup Liam’s jaw with a slender hand, “Liam - Liam are you. What’re you saying?”

Liam looks down at his hands and twists them into Zayn’s shirt, “I fucking  _fancy_ you, you bloody idiot. And not just cause you’re fit. I have like - stupid domestic fantasies of you and, yeah, you’re right, I’m kind of a lot daft.”

But then Zayn is laughing and he looks so bright and glowing. And that’s -

Oh.

_Oh._

"Oh god," Liam groans, "We’re a walking cliché."

"Speak for yourself," Zayn teases, hands warm and welcoming in a new sort of way, "I’m the one who walked around being a complete tosser to you because I thought you fucking  _liked it_.”

"So you," Liam blinks trying to wrap the last year around in his head, "So you’re not like - broody."

Zayn snorts, “No. Not I’m not  _broody._ Well not entirely anyway.” He leans in close to press a kiss to the bottom of Liam’s jaw, lips moving against his skin, “And now I’m going to take you out to dinner, yeah, and then to some ridiculous movie where we’ll make out in the dark and you’re going to have fun because it’s _me._ But also, no, I’ll probably never pick up my phone or remember our bloody anniversaries because I’m still a bit of a twat.”

Liam breaks into one of his silly, stupid smiles, twining their fingers, and easing a gentle kiss to Zayn’s mouth, “Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

**_____________________________________________**

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like :D


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